


Tick Tock Goes the Clock

by aequuitas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark fic, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Imagery, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aequuitas/pseuds/aequuitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer uses a clock to taunt Sam into hurting himself.  Dean is there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick Tock Goes the Clock

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

He can feel every movement the clock’s hands make because the damn thing has somehow found a way to beat in time with his heart. Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, Sam wonders if this is another version of Hell. It’s been thirty six hours since he slept, and despite how much his body is beginning to rebel, his brain won’t shut down. Refuses to.

 **"What’sa matter Sammy?"** Sam can hear him, loud and clear perched above the bed like some type of fucking eagle or something. **"Not your bedtime yet?"**

Sam looks at Dean’s bed, sees his brother sleeping, looks away again. No, Dean deserves all the sleep he can get at this point. Insomnia isn’t worth burdening his big brother with, not with everything else Dean has decided to stack on his own shoulders

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

**"Oh how noble!"** Lucifer’s voice is filled with a not so rare glee, **"He sacrifices himself again for his big brother’s few hours. Adorable."** The fallen angel sighs happily and rests his head on his hand.

Sam doesn’t look at him.

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

The battery life on the clock must be phenomenal, because Sam can swear on his life that the thing’s been screaming off each second at him for the past six hours. Still, he stares studiously at the ceiling, ignoring it as well as he can.

 **"Though you see, Sammy, it’d probably be better if you did wake up your big brother,"** Lucifer says thoughtfully, **"You know, before you do something…rash."**

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

He’s out of the bed before he thinks about it, across the room before his brain catches up with what’s going on, and into the bathroom, the door closed quietly, locked tightly. Lucifer doesn’t make it through the door, but he’s inside the bathroom anyway, perched happily on the edge of the bath. **"Now Sammy, not going to do anything too drastic I hope."**

The knife is cool in Sam’s hand, and very, very carefully, he pushes it down to the skin of his leg, and keeps pushing. Lucifer flickers, grinning, but doesn’t disappear completely. **"Not that easy anymore, is it big boy?"** Again, the knife presses against Sam’s skin, the pain pinching, almost a relief. Four cuts, Sam makes, and Lucifer is still there. Still smirking at him.

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

**"Can’t get rid of what’s inside you, can you Sammy? Because I’m here now. I’ll always be here, but don’t worry. You’ll probably only last a few more days. Maybe a week or two tops. Then perhaps I’ll move on to your big brother. He’s a lot prettier than you anyway."**

Something in Sam snaps, and then he’s screaming. "You can’t do this! You’re not real, you’re in my head!" Then it’s incoherent, nonsensical words yelled in rage and frustration and hopelessness.

He doesn’t realize he’s still yelling until there’s banging on the door. "Sammy!" Sam stops yelling but he doesn’t open the door, “Sam, what’s going on in there?"

Still he doesn’t answer, and then he figures he shouldn’t be surprised when the door comes flying in and Dean stands there, panting with the effort but with a look of determination on his face. The determination quickly changes to concern when he sees Sam sitting on the floor of the bathroom, still holding the bloody knife, a pool of blood forming around his leg. "Oh, Sam," He says quietly, and then he’s next to Sam, gently pulling the knife from the younger’s fingers, reaching for bandages and binding up Sam’s leg with the gentle care that only he knows how to use.

And that’s when Sam notices the silence. It’s so damn quiet, and he starts crying because it hasn’t been this quiet in a long time. Dean mistakes his tears for those of pain, and reaches out gently to brush Sam’s hair away. "It’s quiet," Sam whispers.  
Dean clearly doesn’t understand but he nods anyway, “Yeah, Sammy. It’s nice and quiet. Now why don’t you come get some sleep?"

He’s smiling by the time he’s back in his bed, and he looks up at the ceiling before closing his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, something has gone right for once.

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock._


End file.
